


The Sun will not set on Me

by Spectre4hire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Elia Martell Lives, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Not For Rhaegar Fans, POV Elia Martell, Past Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectre4hire/pseuds/Spectre4hire
Summary: Elia Martell will not allow others to decide her fate.Princess Elia takes her and her children’s future into her own hands. She sends a raven to Mace Tyrell at Storm’s End offering him what he’s always wanted. His daughter for her son and heir, and her daughter for his son and heir. All he must do is quit the Siege of Storm’s End and come to King’s Landing.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Elia Martell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 162





	The Sun will not set on Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written just for fun. It's not really thought out and disregards canon and logic.

_Nothing._

That’s what her _husband_ told her when he returned after abducting Robert Baratheon’s betrothed. He walked into the Red Keep as if he was just returning from one of his trips to Summerhall. There was no concern in his voice. There was no fear in his eyes. 

He did not stay long in the city, and Elia found herself grateful. The sight of him had rankled her stomach. She despised him. He barely saw his children and seemed more distracted by those who were not there with him than those that were. 

_Nothing._ She thought again, that’s what she felt about him now. _Nothing._

* * *

It was through her uncle that she learned of her husband’s plans to meet the rebel’s forces. Their army had regrouped and would march north to engage and defeat the rebel host. 

_In his mind, the battle is already won,_ Her uncle had told her. His tone betrayed not only his Dornish lilt, but his own bitter feelings towards the crown prince. The slights Rhaegar had given Dorne had cut deeper than any sword. 

Despite everything she was plotting and doing, she still had cried into her uncle’s white cloak when she said farewell to him. He had held her and kissed her hair and told her not to despair. 

_I do not fight for Aerys,_ he assured her, _I do not fight for Rhaegar,_ he looked her in the eyes. _I'm fighting for Aegon, the sixth of his name._ He squeezed her hands, _You must too._

 _I am._ She had been fighting and planning for Aegon these past few months. She was putting no trust in her husband, no faith in her king. _In my hands will hold the crown._

He had smiled, and dipped his head. He left to lead the Dornish forces that were all but dragged out of the desert to fight. 

_The sun is unforgiving,_ she remembered her lessons at Sunspear, _It is unyielding._

 _And soon,_ she thought, _our enemies will learn that too._

* * *

Princess Elia Martell waited patiently in her chambers. _No, not chambers, my cell,_ she corrected herself. _I am a Princess of Dorne and he treats me like a prisoner._

 _Unbowed, unbent, unbroken,_ those were her family’s words. Those were the words her ancestors gave Aerys’ when they thought a dragon could tame the sun. _No fire burns hotter than the sun, not even dragonflame._ The Targaryens learned that the hard way. Bloodied and beaten, they withdrew and Aegon the Conqueror was given a bitter taste he would not receive again-defeat. 

It was time for Aegon’s kin to be reminded that Dorne is not like the other Kingdoms. _Our knees do not bend so easily._

It was before the war had even started did Elia understand that she could not trust her fate or that of her children’s in any hands but hers.

To the Seven Kingdoms she probably appeared to be some sort of damsel like in the stories she loved when she was a child that she and Oberyn would reenact. A beautiful princess trapped in a tower waiting to be saved. What Westeros did not know was that she was usually the knight and Oberyn the princess, because she was not one to let others save her. 

The memory made her smile. _Oberyn made a very good princess._ She wished he was here now. She trusted him with her life and knew he’d do anything for her. He played the princess because he loved her. _Oberyn is not here. Doran is not here. I must save myself._

A knock came to the door and then opened before she could answer. Elia moved across the chambers to greet her guest. She did not wait until he was in the room before she embraced him. 

“Was the message sent?” 

Jaime Lannister’s hands were soothing as they went up and down her back. “It was sent.” 

“Thank you,” She murmured against him, she could see her reflection in his plate armor and saw the tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice thick with relief. 

There was one thing the stories got right, a knight did come to help her. She looked up into the green eyes of Jaime Lannister and his warm smile made her heart flutter in a way that Rhaegar’s never could. 

Theirs was a chaste courtship. Unlike her husband, she had not strayed from their marriage bed despite the temptations that Jaime stirred within her these past few months. Or the yearning to numb that cold ache of loneliness that nestled itself deep inside her. 

She had pressed on because she would not risk her children’s inheritance. Aegon and Rhaenys’ future must be secured. If that meant sacrificing a few more things such as companionship to do it then she would. _I will stop at nothing for them._

Elia and Jaime had been abandoned together. They were trapped and tormented by the Mad King together. _But soon we will triumph together._

The next day all the Red Keep would discover that Aerys Targaryen the Second of his Name was dead. 

* * *

Elia Martell received her guest on the Iron Throne. On her lap sat the new Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, her son, Aegon. 

Mace Tyrell had arrived so quickly to the city Elia couldn’t help but wonder if he traveled by dragon. He was dressed as if he was returning from a banquet and not a battle. 

It did not seem to bother him that her husband was fighting in the Riverlands and that the war was still waging. Elia did not blame him for his confidence since the majority of the Reach’s impressive army now stood outside the city. If the Rebels did thwart her husband’s army would they be so hungry for more battle with such a large obstacle standing between them and the capital? _Or would they prefer words to swords?_

“My Princess,” He bowed his head. His principal bannermen who stood behind him followed his lead. 

“Lord Tyrell,” She smiled down at the Lord of the Highgarden, “And Lords of the Reach,” she gestured to where they silently stood. “My son and I are grateful for your loyalty.” 

That was when the steward came forward and in his hands were the papers to show just how grateful they were for it. 

Lord Tyrell was giddy and greedy. He quickly agreed, pressing his seal and adding his signature that would officially bind their families together: her Aegon with his Margaery and her Rhaenys with his Willas. 

If anyone noticed that they were first signed by a dead king no one cared. It had been the last useful thing Aerys had done before he _tragically_ perished. 

Elia then told Lord Tyrell that the rooms in the Tower of the Hand were made available to him and his bannermen. She did not miss the way his eyes flashed, and Elia knew the hooks of the dragon were firmly in him. 

In the silence of the throne room she allowed herself to smile and breathe a sigh of relief. She kissed Aegon’s pale hair. The might of the Reach was now at her son’s back. 

Elia Martell was not afforded the opportunity to rest or revel because there was more to do. 

_My son will not inherit a fractured kingdom._

* * *

It was two nights after the Tyrells had arrived when she received the raven, which had been written by her uncle, Prince Lewyn. 

_Rhaegar was dead._

He was _King_ for a week, but he was never crowned. 

The rebels were not without losses including one of their leaders, Robert Baratheon had taken a mortal wound from her husband in their duel. _The Battle of the Trident_ as it was being called had been a stalemate that left both sides bloodied and tired. The rebels had moved north and the royals chose not to pursue due to their own losses. 

Was it wrong of her to feel more pity towards Robert than Rhaegar? In Robert, she saw herself. Someone who was wronged. Rhaegar had humiliated them both. Aerys had threatened them both. She was innocent, but that hadn’t stopped the king from making her his prisoner. Robert had been innocent too but that didn’t stop Aerys for calling for his head.

The Lord of Storm’s End refused to yield and fought with the fury his family was famous for. He was a storm that shook the Seven Kingdoms. His wrath was swift and terrible like the harsh winds and his warhammer was the thunder that followed. His was a storm so powerful that he had become the greatest threat to the dragon’s reign. 

He had killed Rhaegar. He had gotten his vengeance, but he did not live long to savor it. 

Robert Baratheon had fought and died for it. 

Elia was prepared to do no less for her children, but she did not need a sword to accomplish it. The treasury was full and she knew she’d need to give coins, gifts, and favors to the houses her good father and husband had wronged. 

_What cannot be won in war can be won with ink and gold._

* * *

_Poisoned._

Her stomach had twisted when her suspicions had finally been confirmed. 

It had been Maester Caleotte who had been the one to do it. A man she knew and trusted, he served as her brother’s maester at Sunspear and before him, their mother. He had traveled with her brothers at her request. If they were troubled or curious by it, they did not show it. After receiving them through tears and embraces, and promises to speak and inform them of everything that had happened, she had asked to speak with Maester Caleotte privately. She went over her concerns and he agreed to investigate the matter which included studying the tonic Pycelle had ordered her to drink every day after giving birth to Aegon. 

He told her it was to keep her strong, but it was only when she stopped taking it a few weeks ago did she actually feel strong. That she began to feel like she used to before she had given birth to Aegon. It was one of the changes she had noticed, and the maester who traveled with her brother from Sunspear had confirmed the other one too. 

She wasn’t sterile. 

The maester had assured her that her moonblood would return, but he did not know that it already had. She was free of Pycelle’s poison. 

She had cried at the news. It was not tears of bitterness or of fear. It was true that childbirth had weakened her, and it had nearly claimed her after Aegon. However, that did not mean she did not dream of another brother or sister to play with Rhaenys and Aegon. In those dreams she could see her babe so clearly, sometimes they’d have tan skin and blond hair, other times green eyes and dark curls, and the father was always there. He was smiling and laughing and playing with all of her children. It was Jaime Lannister.

Elia was not sure she could pick an exact moment when her affection towards the remaining kingsguard knight caused her to yearn for something beyond friendship between them. 

_Was it when Rhaenys cried out his name instead of her father’s after a nightmare?_

_Or how he never hesitated to pick up a crying Aegon to soothe him back to sleep._

_Or how he chased her daughter in the godswood and looked to be having more fun than Rhaenys._

The young knight whose head was filled with dreams of glory had been left behind in the war and had become more nursemaid than soldier. It would make most men bitter, but not him. He had never complained. He had never withdrawn from them. Jaime Lannister was there whenever he could be. His presence was part pillar and part shield for her. 

_I would not be here without him._

Her feet had carried her to the godswood to a sight she was familiar with, but it never failed to make her smile. Rhaenys was running between trees and Jaime was pursuing her, both of them laughing. In seeing them and reflecting on the news from the maester, she felt hope bloom in her chest for the first time in a long time. That mayhaps she could still find the love and happiness that Rhaegar denied her. That her time for motherhood had not truly set as she had been deceived into believing. 

Rhaenys was the one to see her first, but they both beckoned her to join them in their fun. She did. 

That night Maester Pycelle was thrown in the Black Cells. He was to be put in Oberyn’s custody. Her brother planned to take him back to Dorne when everything in the capital was settled.

She almost felt pity for the old man. _Almost._

* * *

For the second time in a fortnight, Elia found herself receiving a great lord of Westeros while sitting upon the Iron Throne. This time she was serving as her son’s regent, and the lord standing below her, was Tywin Lannister. 

The Lord of Casterly Rock had brought a sizable force to the city, but it had camped leagues away. She was certain that had not been his first choice, but he had to make it when he learned of Lord Tyrell’s army currently camped around King’s Landing while patrolling the nearby lands. 

Elia had seen Lord Tywin sit upon the very seat she found herself in now more times then she could count. He served as Aerys’ hand and helped him rule for two decades. 

_Now,_ she looked down at him from the throne, _I'm the one ruling._

She had already sent ravens to the Riverlands to offer the Rebels a truce and safe passage so that they could discuss an amendable peace to end this war. She knew such promises would be difficult for them to trust or accept. The Mad King hindered her even from the grave. 

“House Lannister has served the Targaryens well in the past,” She greeted the proud Warden of the West, “And we wish to see that continue.”

“As do I, Princess,” His head dipped only slightly.

“Your son has come to me and has asked to be removed from the Kingsguard,” It was a memory she found herself drawing strength from while she sat perched atop a throne of melted swords and looking down at the fearsome Lord of Casterly Rock. She did not miss the desire that passed over his face at her reveal. “Your son had one condition.”

“Which is?” Lord Tywin’s posture had shifted instantly upon the idea that his son was about to be released from the order that had finally caused him to resign from his post as Hand of the King. Tywin had called it a sickness, and she knew there was truth in those words, but the sickness was of a different sort. One of anger and not ailment. 

“He will only resign from the kingsguard if he can take me as his wife,” Elia delivered the news with a neutral look despite the warmth and happiness that bubbled up within. A font that had been overflowing in her chest these past few days.

It was true she was still a widow, who was expected to grieve for Rhaegar. Elia wore black out of duty not devotion. In her heart and mind she had buried Rhaegar long ago. She’d observe it because she was expected to. She’ll slip out of her black gown as soon as she could and let Jaime slip the Lannister cloak upon her shoulders binding them together. 

Tywin frowned. Warring expressions passed over his face, but his eyes conveyed none of them nor did he voice them aloud. “It would be an honor to join our houses, Princess,” He delicately observed.

She did not point out the lie because he had his chance years ago and refused. 

“However, it was said you were infertile,” his tone almost sounded genuine, “My apologies, Princess I mean no disrespect or insult.”

Elia tipped her head to him to acknowledge his respectful words and to show she did not hold them against him. “I'm pleased to say that has been proven to be an unfound rumor, my lord.” She allowed herself a polite smile when she added, “It has been confirmed by several maesters who serve some of the greatest lords in the realm that I am once more able to bear children.”

Lord Tywin did not ask after those maesters or if Pycelle was among them. 

_Did he know?_ She wondered, _or was Pycelle acting solely on what he thought Lord Tywin would want?_

She did not like the man below her, but Tywin Lannister would not rule the Westerlands forever. And a son between her and Jaime would be the future Lord of the Rock as well as Aegon’s half brother. That was a powerful ally she could not overlook.

“I accept, princess.” 

_You had no choice,_ but she smiled all the same. 


End file.
